


A Cure For Boredom

by septic_dr_citrus



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Basically the Ink does most of the work and Shawn reaps the rewards, Boredom, Consentacles, Fondling, Groping, Hand Jobs, Lazy Sex, Loneliness, Maybe - Freeform, Other, Overstimulation, Sleepiness, Sleepy Sex, Sort Of, Symbiotic Relationship, The Ink is Sentient, Wet & Messy, could be canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 14:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septic_dr_citrus/pseuds/septic_dr_citrus
Summary: Shawn planned on spending his downtime after work in bed. Some frisky Ink is more than happy with this arrangement, on the condition that it gets to join him.





	A Cure For Boredom

**Author's Note:**

> In my AU, Shawn Flynn is an Uncanon Ego who lives on the edge of the Canon Jacksepticeye Egos' world; he's bitter about being ostracized from them and from Jack. He also can produce the Ink from his body and has a symbiotic relationship with it. And yes, sometimes they get it on. ^^"

It wasn’t a need or even a want that crossed Shawn’s mind often. He was a hard worker, one who kept his mind on his sketches and blueprints and keeping his painting hand steady. He sorted and tacked up all of his papers, touched up the paint on his old toys and slumped into his bed in the corner, draping an arm over his eyes until he fell into a deep, dark sleep. Day in, night out. It was a routine he’d followed for years; constancy provided security.

That being said, working and sleeping in the same cramped corner of an empty workshop got _boring_. Not lonely, no. Shawn Flynn was rarely ever lonely. The Ink kept him company…in more ways than one. It could get bored too.

Tonight Shawn didn’t dream of anything memorable. He caught the Canon Egos’ voices, mocking him with their distant echoes. He sensed a phantom pressure of Jack’s lips against a microphone, bringing him to life. He heard whispers, chitters and faraway creaks…and then something wet appeared in his hand, gliding between his fingers.

On some level of consciousness, he knew he must have summoned the Ink in his sleep, but it didn’t drip away into the floorboards as it normally would. It skimmed along his wrist and up into his sleeve, leaving dark residue in its wake as it wound around his arm, climbing.

Shawn half-considered mustering the motivation to brush it away and sleep on undisturbed, but a reluctant thought arose through the haze: he hadn’t been giving it as much personal attention lately. Could he really blame it for taking an opportunity when he wasn’t busy? Even Ink could get needy. With a drowsy sigh of resignation, he lay still for it as it perused his bare skin, clogging pores and slicking down hairs.

After an examination that was unnecessarily long—so long that Shawn practically drifted off again—it formed a semisolid puddle on his chest. The weight of it there was somewhat comforting, especially when it started to squeeze and massage the muscles there. Even as his breathing eased, his nipples hardened.

When more Ink pooled in his hands, he allowed it. One strand of it remained wrapped around his wrist, squeezing his pulse point, while the other followed the path laid out by the first. It seeped up through his sleeve and out the collar of his shirt, licking at the pulse in his neck for a moment before flicking higher, tickling the underside of his chin. He hummed in response, letting it feel the vibrations.

Black droplets clung to his beard as it slithered onto his face, staining his lips with a pleading kiss, asking for entrance. His yawn served as permission. Tingly, gooey, bitter heat filled his mouth, some portions of it curling around his tongue, others seeping down his throat until he lazily swallowed. He could feel it trailing all the way into his stomach; it made certain of that.

_Glad you’re happy doin’ most of the work this time_. It heard his tired but friendly reflection and rippled in agreement. Goosebumps flared down his arms and stomach as his playmate throbbed hotly. His skin was more sensitive to temperature than anything else.

Distantly he became aware of a thicker, fatter tendril seeping along the sheets, on a beeline to mount his lower body. His slow, even breaths hitched as it climbed his hip, briefly squeezed his thigh and then spread forth, draping itself generously between his legs.

Tenderly but purposefully it kneaded him through his pants, sponging and sucking away at the fabric. Arousal had already been simmering through his core, but the wet squelches and slurps it was making were a clincher. For that he gifted it a satisfied moan, the sound gurgling through the Ink still lingering in his mouth.

“Hhh…ah…h-harder…”

It obliged him, redoubling its efforts until his length was standing firm enough to hold. The Ink bubbled and swirled around the tip, its strokes teasing and infuriatingly slow. Legs twitching helplessly, Shawn arched up into it, searching for more friction.

“Harder…c’mon now…” he repeated breathlessly, sweat breaking out along his hairline. Another glob he hadn’t yet noticed glided up to hug his temples and forehead, soaking up the salty beads.

The longer the pleasuring torture went on, the more Ink seemed to appear. It was everywhere now, spreading to cover his writhing body in pulsing, wriggling branches. The amount of sensory input was maddening, overstimulating him in every way but the one he wanted most. Whining around the fresh Ink filling his mouth, he clenched his eyes shut, arching his back and hips in near-violent desperation until he could feel himself tiring.

_Harder! Faster, please!_ Shawn implored one more time, unspoken, only to release a choked cry of relief when the Ink suctioned to his length and pumped in one sharp, sudden stroke, finally catapulting him over the edge. His climax ripped through him in waves, the Ink squeezing with enough force to hold him in that high of ecstasy.

As the stars in his vision cleared, he could distantly sense the stickiness draining away, merging into one pool of Ink and his own fluids that slipped triumphantly away somewhere in the folds of the sheets. Exhaling weakly as sore exhaustion set in, Shawn shivered, his wet, stained clothes clinging to his skin. This was going to take a long, _long _time to wash out, he mused as the dredges of sleep recaptured him.


End file.
